Curiosity Killed the Key
by Luna del Cielo
Summary: Buffy's not the only Summers who attracts vampire…Inspired by MistressAshley. James/Dawn Summers
1. Welcome to Willy's

This was completely inspired today by MistressAshley's Odds and Ends: Part 3 (Chapter 14 ) on Twisting the Hellmouth (but she's also on ffnet, me thinks). If you haven't checked her out, you must do it now. She writes some of the best stories on this site and is one of the best artists in fandom (as in: she is one of the few authors who I am I tracking everything; I tend to love everything of hers). So check her out!

**Crossover:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Twilight (although I am not really a fan of the books, so don't expect any fangirl action)  
**Genre:** Friendship/Adventure/maybe some romance along the way  
**Disclaimer:**: I am not posting this for profit and do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Twilight. Because, let's face it, the only people who technically own BTVS are this wanker married couple comprised of a horrible director and producer who then ruin Joss Whedon's dream for the character and will do so again in a future movie installment. Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, who must be admired – and no, not for her writing ability, but for her secret Mormon ninja skills that got her to write a secret Mormon book that is more powerful than Joseph's Smith's golden plates, because it gets all females into a tizzy of daydreaming lust. /rant ;)

And yes...I know that I, of all people, should not be starting a new story, especially now that I'm being better about updating older ones. But you can blame it on MistressAshley and her siren-like manips! ;)

* * *

The three of them sauntered into the dimly lit bar like they owned the place, regardless of the fact that this was their first visit. Willy's, as the bar was called, was a sinkhole of an establishment that catered to the sharp-toothed, the tentacled, and the overall decidedly not human variety of beings. They had heard of it in their travels and, judging by slight sneer that each member of the trio bore, the reality was nothing like they had pictured. A demon covered with drooping flaps of skin sat at the bar, in front of a scrawny male human with a nervous twitch in his manner as he wiped the bar. Several half-breed vampires played pool in the back corner, speaking animatedly in hushed voices. Two beautiful women – beautiful, that is, unless you disliked women with four arms – gossiped on a well-worn floral-patterned couch that was covered with several rips and tears.

"I was expecting something more from a Hellmouth establishment," Victoria stated scornfully as she tossed her golden blond curls over her shoulder. "Like live humans in cages with drinking straws sticking out of them."

"I once knew an english half-breed who used to live here, until the slayer ran him out of town. Do not let this lackluster appearance fool you," Laurent contradicted smoothly in his soft French accent.

James grinned in anticipation. "I bet the slayer has never met one of us before. This should be fun."

Victoria smirked and kissed her mate on the cheek. "A fitting challenge."

"The only reason why a slayer has never fought one of our kind before is because the Volturi have forbid it," Laurent reminded them, referencing the ultimate authority of the vampire world. "It goes against the code."

James scoffed. "I don't fear them. When I was much younger they offered me employment as a hunter, wanting me for my tracking abilities." No one could track a creature better than James. He then growled at a distant memory. "But there is no way I shall be an indentured servant ever again."

Victoria's hand found James and she squeezed it softly – although soft to her was likely bone crushing to a mortal. Their skin was as hard as marble and their strength reminiscent of the cartoon heroes that mortals created in their image, such as that Superman character. She knew that her mate was far older than her and that his human life, or what he remembered of it, had irrevocably changed his world perspective. He defied all rules and implied chains that threatened to take hold of him. The best way to get James to do something was to tell him _not_to do it.

Laurent said nothing and slid into a bar seat. His dreadlocks hung loosely around his shoulders and he wore an old-fashioned dress jacket that hung past his waist; it was reminiscent of his French revolution days. "Do you have blood, barkeep?" he inquired in a pleasant voice.

The man, with oily hair and sweaty palms that made him stink worse than most humans – and let it be known that humans in general smelled hideously (besides their blood, of course) – turned to him and smiled anxiously. "Uh, yeah. I've got some pig's blood and lamb blood in stock."

Victoria leaned over the counter and licked her lips salaciously. She purposely pulled her fur-fringed jacket tight around her bosom, and smirked when the pitiful human eyed her ample cleavage like she was eying his neck. "We desire something warmer…something human," she purred.

Willy backed up and the hideous peach-colored demon with flaps of skin, looked at them curiously. "Uh, sorry, I usually keep some of the good stuff on tap, but the hospital got evacuated and took all the blood bags with them. To be honest, tonight's the last night we're open for business."

James shared a look with his compatriots. "Why?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "Isn't that peculiar, even for humans, to close up a hospital?"

"A-a-All the humans are leavin'," Willy stammered. "The Red Cross sent out some official earthquake notice, but honestly people can feel it and are takin' off."

"Feel what?" Victoria queried, looking annoyed with the fact that the human hadn't just spit it out already.

"From beneath you it devours," the fleshy demon said in an amiable voice. He slurped up a thick drink that smelled slightly like moss.

"What the hell does _that_ mean?" Victoria asked, glancing at her mate in concern. They enjoyed chaos and death but not when it involved _their_death.

The demon shrugged, and his body wriggled at the effort. "I heard it's something that calls itself the First Evil. Not sure of anything else, just that Sunnydale is the ground zero for its welcoming party."

"And the slayer?" James asked cooly. "Is she still here?"

A guarded look came into the demons eyes. "Uh, not sure. She's human…so I bet she's probably taking off like everyone else." He nodded for emphasis.

"Pity," Victoria growled. "I'm so hungry." She turned to Willy and gave him a toothy grin. "I suppose you'll have to do." She leaned forward and yanked him over the counter. Her teeth were on his neck when he began screaming.

"Wait! Wait! I know the slayer! Sh-she's here! I even know where she lives!" Willy yelped.

"Where?" James snarled, his face inches from the barkeep's.

"Rodeo drive! Got a house there!" Willy told them frantically.

The trio shared a smile, not even noticing when the fleshy demon slunk quietly out of the bar.

"Thank you barkeep. You have been most helpful," Laurent informed Willy in an amused tone.

"S-so I can go now?" Willy asked, his voice high-pitched and anxious.

"Why yes," Victoria smiled as she petted his hair.

Willy smiled in relief.

Victoria bent down and pressed her lips against his ear. "You can go to your maker," she purred maliciously. Then she sank her teeth into his tender neck with relish. James bit into Willy's right wrist and Laurent bit into the opposite wrist. They feasted gluttonously.

When they were done Victoria rubbed her stomach. "He was greasy," she remarked in annoyance.

Laurent blotted his bloody lips with a napkin, like a proper gentleman should. "Indeed."

"No worries, my friends. We have something much sweeter waiting for us." James smiled in anticipation.

"The Slayer."

* * *

A/N:

If you haven't figured out the timeline yet, it is during Season 7 of BTVS and before the Twilight books take place. This scene specifically takes place before 'Empty Places', right when all the Sunnydale folks are leaving like a bat outta hell (or, like a bat outta the hell_mouth_. oh, haha…I am ever so witty… ;)


	2. Buffy Kills Creatures, Dawn Beats Creepe

**Buffy Kills Creatures, Dawn Beats Creepers**

A/N:

Thank you MistressAshley for the rec! (Also, have I told you guys yet how much I adore her work? Especially her new Buffy/Crowley fic that I hope she continues? *grins*)

The first scene includes dialogue from Empty Places. I certainly do not own that and thank the good Mr. Whedon and his writing team :)

* * *

Buffy Summers ambled carefully down the sidewalk, amidst the chaos of dozens of people preparing to vacate Sunnydale. A shop owner placed a 'Closed' sign on his window and ran down the street. Another store was subtly getting looted by men wearing sunglasses. Suitcases rolled over the ground. Children followed parents like ducklings. Sunnydale was empting out.

Out of all the apocalypses, her fellow Sunnydalians had decided that _this_one was bad enough to move out. If that didn't tell her something, then she didn't know what.

"Hey you!" she heard a friendly, and familiar, voice call. Buffy turned to see Clem waving from Volkswagen beetle.

"Can you believe this mishegas?" he asked as she strolled over to his car.

Buffy smiled wryly. "It's like these people have never seen an apocalypse before." She glanced at the suitcases in the backseat. "And you're just out for a quick spin, right? Maybe out to the 7-11... in Nebraska..." She trailed off as Clem gave her a sheepish smile.

"It's getting bad here. Really bad. Hellmouth acting up again, people feeling it, getting crazier. And you can't swing a cat without hitting some kind of demonic activity. Not  
that I...swing cats. Or eat...Nope. Cutting way back. Cholesterol." He balked and amended his statement. "Morals. I mean morals."

"Right."

"We've seen bad stuff in this town before, but, you know... this time, it's like, it just seems...different. More powerful. I don't think anyone's gonna be able to stop it – I mean... I'm sure you're gonna do fine," Clem backpedaled. "Complete faith in you. If anyone can do it, you can, 'cause...you rock! If you save the world, I'll come back, we'll have a drink." He winced and attempted to remedy his statement. "When! When, I mean! When you save the world. It's gonna be great! With the, you know... rocking..."

Buffy smiled weakly at his display of support. Great. Not even the demons thought she stood a chance against the First Evil.

"Maybe... maybe you should just get out of town this time."

"Yeah. I probably should."

Clem's eyes widened, like he remembered something. He held up an envelope and waved it slightly. "Hey, that reminds me…I was going to mail this, on account of wanting to leave like a bat outta the Hellmouth, but I figure it'd be better to tell you in person."

"What?" Buffy asked warily.

Clem glanced around nervously, and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Last night I was at Willy's and some vamps came in."

Buffy was unimpressed. "Uh-huh."

"They killed Willy."

Buffy pressed her lips together in regret. Willy was garbage but he was still human. She never wished him dead – well, okay, maybe that _one_time after he sold Angel to Spike for Drusilla's spell… "That sucks," she said instead.

"And they're coming for _you_ next," Clem told her.

Vampires? Coming for her? Loud, hysterical laughter spilled from her lips. Her stomach clenched painfully at the sheer amount of her laughter and she had to place her hands on her knees for support. Looking up, she saw Clem gazing at her in bewilderment. "I'm…sorry," she gasped between giggles. "It's just…I mean, sweet of you to worry…but," she giggled some more. "I mean, the First Evil wants me dead, has sent prehistoric vampires at me, and now some pathetic _vamps_want me?"

Clem waited for her hysterics to end. "Buffy." He paused, looking unsure. "I don't know if they're normal vamps."

That killed her mood. "Huh with the not-normal now?"

"They smelled...bad." He made a disgusted look. "Sweet and icy, like pure sugar melted and frozen."

She gave him an incredulous look. "So, they smell like popsicles?"

"Listen, you know how there's different demons?" Buffy nodded. "Well there's a kind that considers themselves vampires – true vampires – even though the most of us consider them just another type of demon. They're stronger than a normal vamp, though."

Buffy studied Clem with a critical eye. "So what are you saying?"

He gave her a soft smile. "Just be careful, Buffy."

She nodded, and he pulled away – leaving her more stressed out than before.

* * *

James, Victoria, and Laurent stalked the dark streets of Sunnydale, pleased that more humans were out tonight than the previous night. According to that barkeep most of the humans were leaving but it appeared that those who had yet to leave were attempting to drink their sorrows away. They approached a place in the warehouse district called 'The Bronze' and shuddered slightly at the pounding music emanating from the dance club. Vampire ears were notoriously sensitive and anytime they were around loud noises, such as music, they consciously had to lower their sensitivity. Some vampires were then less able to hear at all, having trouble changing their ears from lowering the volume of certain noises and increasing the volume of other noises, but the three of them were older than most. It would not be terribly bothersome.

"We should feed," Laurent suggested as they heard a quiet cry coming from the back of the dumpster. "It will be hard to control the bloodlust inside a club full of sweaty humans, all stacked like together like blood-filled sardines in a can."

James inhaled greedily, found what he was looking for, and entered the shadows of the back alley. There he found a half-breed – disgusting, the lot of them – feeding off of a teenage girl. With a smirk, he yanked the vampire away from the girl and into Victoria's arms.

"Hey! What the hell was that for?" the male half-breed, dressed inconspicuously in jeans and a band t-shirt, shouted. His face was still wrinkled with the visage of the demon and his lips were stained with blood.

Victoria threw him against the wall. "Why, I'm the vampire slayer!" she declared in her trademark girlish voice. James always enjoyed the dissonance between her fierce looks and sweet voice. It was especially amusing to see how victims reacted to it.

The vampire whimpered, but then peered harder at her. "Wait, the Slayer has straight hair."

The three of them chuckled. On the ground behind the dumpster, the teenage girl just gasped for breath.

"You're right – I'm not her," Victoria stated airily. Without warning she snarled and plunged a stake into the vampire's heart. "I'm worse," she growled. When her opponent was nothing but dust, she giggled merrily and twirled her stake. "That's such a fun game."

Laurent broke out into a small smile as he helped pick up the crying girl. "It is so hard to find a worthy hunt. Such a shame that not even the half-breeds here pick up much of a fight."

The girl quieted her sniffles and gazed at them all gratefully. "Th-thank you for saving me," she whispered.

Cradling her to his chest, Laurent smiled. "Ma petite chérie, we did save you…for dinner."

Fortunately, the girl's voice must have already been hoarse from previous screams – James ever so preferred the soft whimpers of terror when he was eating.

* * *

Dawn arrived at The Bronze with Faith and the Potentials that night. After a day of researching with Andrew, she was exhausted (mmkay, more so from Andrew than the research. Generally speaking, she enjoyed research). She had combed through dozens of online police reports and news stories and they finally had a lead on Caleb; Giles had sent Spike and Andrew to go investigate. She only hoped that they would find something to help them.

'_Stop that_!" she chided herself. She needed to calm down and stop worrying. The attack at the winery had recently happened, Xander was suddenly looking like Captain Morgan (minus the barrel of rum), and most of the girls were bruised or had broken bones, like Rona. Stress was at an all time high and death was kinda imminent at this point. Ergo, dancing was needed.

Sashaying onto the crowded dance floor, she gave up her thoughts and focused on the music. Her hips moved of their own accord, in time to the sultry beat. Dawn wore one of her favorite Bronze outfits – or at least one of her favorites that Buffy wouldn't kill her for wearing – and noticed several boys eying her in her tight red shirt. Their approval didn't truly matter to her, but it made her feel good – wanted, young, on the verge of the beginning rather than the end. She flushed with happiness. The music soaked through her pores and filled her; she relished the tremble of the bass against her skin.

Dawn was unsure of how long she danced by herself. Several boys her age attempted to engage her, but she brushed them off like ants. Honestly, just why did guys think that grinding their hips into her backside was an appropriate invitation to dance? When the next guy did it –one who she could _feel_was too happy about being near her – she decked him across the face. Seeing him fly backwards made her grin with satisfaction. Maybe she wasn't strong or powerful enough to handle the creatures of the night, but she could handle the creepers of the night.

She smiled in amusement at the thought as her eyes traveled over the crowded bar. But her smile died when she saw two red eyes peering at her from the balcony.

* * *

The club was noisy. Human writhed on the dance floor and struggled to walk through the heavy crowds. While whatever it was devoured people from below, it seemed like the humans were attempting to devour each other.

"It's like sex on the dance floor," Victoria stated with distaste. She had been made during the 1800s and had been a proper lady – more or less – during her day.

The three of them were standing on the balcony observing the humans like lab mice in a cage. Feeling cheeky, James stood behind his mate, wrapped his arms around her waist, and began to imitate the young men below. She laughed. Her voice tinkled like wind chimes and he chuckled in response. To their side, Laurent just raised an amused eyebrow. He was new to their 'coven' and while they were not family – not in the way James and Victoria were – there was an extent of trust and general friendliness there.

Victoria had been the one to invite Laurent into their fold, because he filled a needed niche. James was an expert tracker and Victoria was the Houdini of vampires when it came to escape, but Laurent possessed a subtle charm that allowed him to easily blend in with humans when necessary and persuade them to his will. He lacked the streak of humanity that James had lost long ago.

As he danced against his mate, James' eyes roved over the dance floor. It was said that the Slayer frequented this establishment. They had yet to visit her house – James felt that was too easy to just visit a human's home. There was no tracking involved with that; it was akin to setting a bear trap.

On the dance floor he did spot a girl who moved with a sense of grace that he typically attributed to the supernatural. Was she the slayer? He watched her with interest and zoned his senses in on her. His sense of smell was better than any he knew – although he did hear that the Volturi possessed one vampire with senses that could rival his own. James had the ability to weed through a roomful of smells and narrow in on just one. He did so now with this girl.

She smelled soft and sweet…but there was an underlying hardness…Watermelon. James smiled. Yes, she smelled of watermelon. Hard on the outside, but sweet and juicy on the inside. He licked his lips in desire and pressed Victoria even harder against him, but wishing it was the girl down below.

Her red shirt drew him in, taunted him like the _matador de toros_seduces a bull. He watched her hips rock back and forth in a pendulum motion. Her feet moved lightly and occasionally she even twirled girlishly; it would make her chestnut curls fly through the air and beg to be touched.

A boy came up behind her, obviously aroused, and attempted to dance with her by imitating the sex-like moves that other couples were performing. The girl whirled around and punched the boy so swiftly that he flew backwards onto his ass. James grinned. This girl, whoever she was, was unlike any mortal he was used to.

He smelled her scent again and instantly knew that she was his new hunt. He would have her.

Then the girl, smiling, looked up around the room. Her eyes met his, and they widened in surprise. James, ever the scoundrel, winked at her.

"I'll be right back," he murmured to Victoria and Laurent.

* * *

A/N:

Quick updates, yay! Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	3. Hello, Hot Version of the TurokHan!

**Hello, Hot Version of the Turok-Han!**

Dawn blinked and the red eyes were gone. Her heart thundered in her chest and her eyes searched out for the rest of her group. They were all lounging and dancing on the other side of the room. She was alone.

She slid her hair behind her ear nervously. Okay. Maybe she had just imagined it. That hot guy up there didn't have red eyes. Heh.

Still. This was the Hellmouth. Dawn turned to leave the dance floor – and smacked into a bare chest covered by a worn jean jacket. "Oof," she muttered as she backed away. She looked up at the person she had almost knocked out with her freaky clumsiness, and gasped.

Those same red eyes were now staring down at her – and with interest. Pale pink lips were curved into a secretive smile. His stance was unguarded. Golden shoulder-length hair was pulled back into a ponytail, like he was going for some old school Brad Pitt look. A choker necklace featuring a smooth stone encircled his neck, providing the only accessory the man had. His chest was well-defined, and the teenager within her grinned without realizing it.

"Hello," he greeted. She could barely hear him over the music but his voice was a smooth alto, and it caused goosebumps to break out over her arms. Dawn breathed in deeply to calm herself, and was surprised by the sweet smell invading her senses. Was it him? The smell reminded her of cotton candy, fluffy and sweet, and then sticky and delicious.

"H-hi," Dawn greeted back. Then she shook herself free of her hormones. "What are you?" she asked sharply.

The red-eyed man smiled openly in amusement. His eyebrow rose an inch in surprise. "Most people would ask who I was, not what I was."

Dawn placed her hands on her hips in annoyance and gave him a stern look. She didn't have time for this b.s. "Yeah, and most girls didn't grow up on the Hellmouth." Again he looked surprised by her words – and intrigued. "Also? I don't have time for your creature of the night thing. Not with the First Evil all out and about. So. I'll ask again. _What_are you?"

He chuckled lowly. "My _name_is James, watermelon. What's yours?"

Eyebrows furrowed, she fought to decide whether she should play this game or run back to Faith. But, if she did try to run, he might grab her. Best not to do anything until she had more information. That was most logical.

Also, there was no way she wanted to give Faith the satisfaction of saving her from a Baby Bad. Her Kidnapped-on-Tuesdays days were over, dang it!

"Dawn," she replied curtly. "And just what are you, James? Random red-eyed demon? Servant to the First Evil? Or just a stoner with a bad case of blood-shot eyes?"

James' lips quirked up. She hated that he found her so damn amusing. Also, as a side note, his smirk was strangely sexy.

Dawn scowled in annoyance at her hormones. Damn her Summers genes for finding danger sexy! Mom dated Ted the Robot, slept with 'Ripper' (EWWW!), and then there was Buffy and her freaky taste. Oh yeah, and the vampire Dawn made out with on Halloween. Ugh. She sucked.

She looked up at James, who was staring at her expectantly. "What?"

"Didn't you just hear what I said?" Damn his sexy smirk.

"Uh, no."

He cocked his head to the side, looking at her with a predatory smile. "I am a vampire." Each word was carefully pronounced, like he was letting her in on a secret.

But Dawn Summers didn't shock easily. "Yeah. So?"

James stared at her in bewilderment. "You're not afraid?" He paused. "So you must be the slayer."

"No," she snorted with a roll of her eyes. Of _course_the stupid hot vampire was looking for Buffy. Gag.

His head moved back and his eyes analyzed her. "Then why aren't you afraid?"

"Uh, because I'm in a crowded place and I've killed my own share of vampires," Dawn boasted. Okay, so it wasn't exactly that she wasn't scared. It was more like she was suppressing that emotion. Vampires could sense fear like Xander could sense Twinkies. All she needed to do was buy some time. She was still dancing, even as he was talking to her, and subtly was moving away from him and towards Faith and the Potentials. Of course, he followed her movements.

"Really." James drew out the word slowly, like he couldn't believe it but at the same time the thought of it excited him.

"Yes, really," Dawn confirmed in annoyance. Honestly, was it that hard to believe that she could take care of herself? "In fact, lots of people are afraid of me." _'There',_she thought.

James didn't say anything. Instead he began to mimic her movements with feline grace. He held out a hand to her. "Would you care to dance with me?" he purred seductively.

Dawn was taken aback by his gesture. Trust a vampire to be more of a gentleman than the human jerks here. Of course, being surprised tended to lead to babbling. "Um, I don't dance with vampires," she informed him primly. "Well," she added after a second thought. "Except for once. And that was totally different because I didn't know he was a vampire. But, ya know, had I known, I never would have made out with him or anything like that. I mean, he thought he could just suck face and then suck my blood? No way."

A slow smile slid over his face, illuminating his features like the rising sun over the horizon. As he danced, his jacket would fall back, revealing more of his impressive abs. "So you do dance with vampires," he pointed out in an easy tone.

"Yeah, but then I stake them afterwards when they attack me," Dawn made sure to point out.

He moved so fast that Dawn only saw a blur. A tiny gasp was ripped out of her throat. Suddenly he was pressed against her, one leg over her left hip and the other leg inserted between her legs. He had pressed something hard into her hand, and it took her a moment to realize what it was. A stake. A wooden stake. And now he was guiding her hand to press that stake against his chest, right above his heart.

"Do it then," he murmured, his breath hot in her ear.

Dawn felt dizzy from the intoxicating sweet smell of him, the satisfying coolness of his skin in the hot club air, and the hardness of the length of his body pressed against her – still continuing to dance. While his hand was on the hand holding the stake, his other hand was on her waist guiding her movements. Dawn felt an animalistic urge to rub her body against him, and she did. A flash of satisfaction streaked through her as she heard him grunt in pleasure.

"Is that how you kill all your vampires? By teasing them?" he inquired lightly. His words vibrated against her ear and she shuddered in pleasure.

Something darker and primal took hold of Dawn's tongue as she spoke next. "I feel it's only right to make a man die happy."

James raised his eyebrows in surprise and then gave her a wolfish grin before grinding his hips against her, eliciting a soft groan from her lips.

Dawn pressed the stake harder against his chest. "But make no mistake about it, I will stake you," she told him firmly. It took all of her self-respect and self-control to untangle her legs from him and stop dancing. He was pretty but evil. Bad. Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad.

Or so she told herself.

"And here I thought we were having a moment," James said dryly. His eyes darkened from red to almost pure black – which reminded Dawn of something.

"Hey! Vampires have yellow eyes. You're not a vamp." Dawn was relieved. And then petrified. Different colored eyes, after all, did not mean hugs and puppies. God, and _what_had she been thinking getting her freak on with the Brad Pitt of evil right here? Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She just was more than a little sexually frustrated from being in a house full of girls and not getting anymore 'alone time' to, uh, 'relieve' her stress.

James just laughed. "I'm a true vampire, Dawn. Not one of those filthy half-breeds."

Dawn backed away, alarmed when James copied her movements. "So, like a hot version of a Turok-Han?"

"Hot?" James smirked, then frowned. "What's a Turok-Han?"

She took another step backward. Glancing back she didn't see Faith and noticed that most of the Potentials were walking out the side door. "Primordial vampire. Works for the First Evil. Indestructible. Well, mostly," she added as she thought the on uber- vamp that Buffy had finally killed.

"Interesting," he mused. "I want to meet one of these Turok-Han."

Dawn smiled nervously as she saw a way out. She _really_didn't like the way James was eying her like a cat eyes a mouse. "Great! I can tell you where to go. Go to the winery on the edge of town. They like to hang out there."

"Excellent." He flashed a toothy smile and held out his hand. "Join me?"

"Uh, no," she stated dumbly. "My mom said to never go home with a strange vampire, no matter how much like cotton candy he smells."

"Cotton candy?" James cocked his head again and studied her with a fascinated expression.

"Uh yeah. Okay, see ya!" she called out as she pivoted and went to go back to her group. But James instead appeared in front of her like a brick wall.

"Okay, now you're getting me angry, fake-vampire," she growled. "I am so not dealing with any of this bullshit right now. So get away or get staked."

James laughed and shook his head. Dawn wanted to wipe that perpetual grin right off his stupid face. Then he tossed her the stake.

She didn't even think about it. If this idiot had a death wish, then so be it. Sure, he was hot, but only in that lickably-evil away, as in, a very bad way. Dawn plunged the stake into his heart, thankful that the no one would likely notice in the chaos of the Bronze.

Except, there wasn't exactly any 'plunging'. Actually, more like pain. Her hand flew through the air but instead of sinking into James, it felt like she hit a big painful cement wall. A big cement wall that was now smirking at her in glee.

"What are you?" Dawn hissed, her mind embroiled with both anger and fear. Now, looking past James, she saw that Faith and the Potentials were gone. She was alone.

"I told you. A vampire," James informed her calmly.

"So you really are like the hot version of the Turok-Han," Dawn mused. Although she was afraid, now she was also intrigued. She loved solving mysteries, researching, and studying languages so much that she sometimes wondered if the Monks didn't throw in a dash of Giles to the Buffy-mixy mix.

James inclined his head. "Again, I told you. I have no idea what that is." He flashed her a predatory smile. "But I would love to find out. I do so love a challenge," he sing-songed.

Dawn got the idea that she was his new favorite challenge, not the Turok-Han. She also noticed that his eyes were completely black now and he was licking his lips.

"Uh. Why did your eyes turn from red to black?" Maybe if she could keep him talking Faith would come back…because if he really was a hot-Turok-Han then she didn't have a chance. Thinking on it, Faith probably didn't either. Or Buffy. Willow. She needed Willow.

"They're red because I drink human blood." James smiled when he noticed Dawn stiffen. "They turn black when I'm hungry."

"Oh! Well. Ah, the Bronze has some awesome onion blossom things, or so I've heard. You should go check that out." Dawn pointed nervously over towards the bar.

"I'm looking for something juicier," James smiled.

Eyes narrowed, Dawn dug through her jean pockets (dammit, tight jeans made it much harder to carry weapons!) and held up a silver cross that Buffy had given her long ago. "Back off," she stated furiously.

He surprised her by taking the cross and fingering it gently. "Hmm. The superstitious about my kind are rather interesting." James made a show of kissing the cross and then running it slowly over his lips. "Of course, this would hurt a half-breed, but not me."

Dawn had never thought that she would get so turned-on by seeing a cross used like that. Good thing she wasn't into the baby jesus worship or else that sight would probably unsettle her.

James tossed the necklace back to her. It had been warm by being in her pants' pocket but now felt deliciously cool. He nodded to her and then began walking backwards. "I'll be seeing you, Dawn." His smile warm…and hungry. Then he was gone, disappearing into the shadows.

"Yo, D, we gotta get outta here."

Dawn jumped up, startled from Faith appearing behind her and grabbing her shoulder. "Wha-what?" she stammered nervously.

"Cops went apeshit and tried to kill me, but we kicked their ass. So, time to leave," Faith informed her.

Nodding dumbly, Dawn followed her along with the other Potentials.

Faith glanced backwards and winked salaciously. "By the way, who was the hottie?"

Dawn was quiet. She glanced around the Bronze before they left. Just who was he, indeed?

* * *

A/N:

Thank the Muse, because this story is really flowing! Yay :) It's such a nice feeling to be inspired to write so quickly.

Also, thanks to those who have reviewed! And a special thanks to Aryll on Twisting the Hellmouth because she was my 2,500th review! *bows humbly* Considering that she's a long time reader and reviewer, that was even extra special. So very much so, thank you to everyone who reviews on all the different sites – you feed the muse! :D


	4. Like Hugh Hefner on a Bunny

**Like Hugh Hefner on a Bunny**

_**Or: Slap-slap. Slap-slap.**_

Buffy had showed up as soon as they walked outside of the Bronze and ordered them to return home. She and Faith hung back, probably brawling by now, Dawn guessed. Ever since the failed attack on the wine cellar something had changed in Buffy. She had become more withdrawn and quiet. Dawn understood it, she guessed. Her sister had always taken everything too seriously and it seemed like the lives lost and injuries the other night had crippled her.

Sometimes Dawn really, really hated Sunnydale. Sometimes she even dreamed about being born into a normal family. Grow up on a farm in the Midwest, eating organic food and racing dirt bikes.

She snorted. Like it or not, she wasn't ever going to be normal – and honestly, she didn't know if she wanted to be. Normal equated boring in her mind.

Sadly, it also equated safety.

Throughout the walk home, Dawn kept her eye out for James but there was no sign of him. When they got home she would spy out the window and gaze into the darkness, waiting. But she saw nothing. Yet, that didn't mean she _felt_nothing.

Dawn couldn't stop thinking about him. The way he pressed against her. The shape of his lips. The bare stomach that begged to be touched. And then there was the dangerous element of him. Stronger than any other vampire. Bloodthirsty. Evil.

Her rabid hormones aside, she was intellectually stimulated by the vampire. He was a delicious mystery, and one that she was determined to understand. The first thing she did when she got home was to go to Giles.

"Hey Giles," she greeted him softly. He was sitting at the dining room table going through those police reports he got today. They all mentioned someone like Caleb so it was hoped that information could be gleaned from them.

"Dawn." Giles smiled tiredly and pushed his glasses up. "I trust that the sojourn to the Bronze went well?"

She pressed her lips together nervously as she slid into the chair. "Some cops went all Hellmouth-y and jumped Faith, but she and the Potentials took care of them."

"Indeed?" Giles gave her a concerned look. "I daresay I'm not surprised. When Willow and I visited the station earlier the officers all had an edgy vibe."

Dawn grinned. She liked it when stuffy Giles said words like 'vibe'. It was a nice reminder that he used to be cool, back in his day.

He raised an eyebrow in question. "Why didn't you help?" he asked after mentally repeating her statement.

"Well, I was occupied," Dawn said nervously.

"Go on," Giles prompted.

She told him about James and what he said about being a 'true vampire', but that he didn't know what a Turok-Han was and totally looked like your average hottie, minus the red/black eyes. When she mentioned how his skin was like marble and her stake had been futile, he began cleaning his glasses on the hem of his gray sweater.

"So he wasn't even aware of the First Evil?" Giles asked.

"Nope," she shook her head. "He did seem to know that a slayer lived in Sunnydale though. I couldn't help but wonder if he's another Spike – just looking for the challenge of killing slayers." Dawn left out the part about her suspicions that _she_was his new challenge. With everything going on, she didn't need to stress Giles further.

"Well, he better get a number," Giles smiled wryly, although his tone was woven with underlying tension and anger. "We've got more monsters than one can shake a stake at."

"Aw, Giles making with the jokes!" Dawn giggled. The brief moments of normalcy around this house were cherished.

Giles smiled wanly and leaned back in his chair. "I have heard of other demons who drink human blood, but they're not what most would call vampires. Although," he added as his eyes lit up, "I suppose the word itself, 'vampire', does reference any creature is hematophagous." Off Dawn's confused look he elaborated. "Any creature that drinks blood. Take the vampire bat, for example."

"Ew."

He continued. "In all likeliness, I could see why one of James' background would call someone like Spike a 'half-breed'. They truly are half demon,half man." Giles frowned. "Still, I don't remember reading about anyone like James, with rock-hard skin and seeming invulnerability with a penchant for blood drinking."

Dawn sighed. "Okey-doke, I'll do some research."

"Dawn." Giles hesitated and she looked up. "In light of our current circumstances, this James fellow may be the least of our dangers. Perhaps your attention would be better spent on Caleb's background."

Her lips twisted in annoyance. "I already did everything I could where it comes to Caleb." Off seeing his almost desperate, rather pleading look, she nodded. "But I'll look some more."

But Dawn didn't plan on it. Since meeting James a mere hour ago she had somehow developed a beginning obsession. There was nothing more she wanted than to learn his secrets.

Besides, at least it gave her something to think about rather than thinking about how Caleb and/or Bringers would be killing them all.

* * *

"So how long do you intend playing with this mouse, James?" Laurent asked with a raised brow, but was otherwise expressionless.

The three of them were hidden in a tree near the house that Dawn had entered. They had followed her and her friends from the Bronze and were now observing Dawn speak to an older man in what looked like the dining room.

"Do you remember me talking about that girl at the asylum? The one who had been turned before I had a chance to taste her?" James asked as his eyes followed Dawn's every movement.

Victoria and Laurent nodded at the reference. James had spoken several times of the girl whose blood sang out to him. He had been furious at having the chance to have her.

"Her blood calls to me in a similar way." James smiled hungrily. "I cannot wait to taste her."

"What about the slayer?" Victoria asked in a bored tone. She loved playing with her food but didn't care much for hunting. However, the slayer had been the only quarry that she had ever requested in their centuries together. He was unsure why but he would not take it away from her. She could have the slayer if she wished

All he wanted was Dawn.

James shrugged carelessly. "We'll find her. With everything going to hell around here I'm sure she'll be around."

Laurent, ever the careful one, glanced uneasily at the ground. _From beneath you it devours_. That was what the demon had told them. Now that their minds were open to the suggestion, they could all feel the evil emanating from below. It was like a pool of water broiling into the hot sun and evaporating – except instead of clouds soaking up the extra energy, it was the people and demons walking above. Already they were killing triple the number of humans as they usually did. Most vampires only needed to feed from one full human every two weeks or so – more if they were younger and less if they were older. But thus far they had fed on a total of three humans each. Fortunately, they doubted few would notice the deaths in the chaotic town.

Some time passed and two young women stalked down the street like predators. One was blond and the other brunette, and both beautiful. They weren't talking but a deep sense of antagonism could be felt between the two. They radiated power and Victoria licked her lips.

"One of them is the Slayer." Victoria moved to jump down, but James rested his hand on her elbow. "Wait, my love." She growled at him and he gave her a placating smile. "Come now, the anticipation is the best part of the hunt." A pale hand trailed down her chest, lightly squeezing her breast before moving on to her navel, where he pulled back teasingly.

She pouted playfully. "Cruel."

James just chuckled. "I want to see them in action first, perhaps against those Turok-Han that Dawn talked about." Was it him, or did Victoria's eyes just flash? "Clearly we'll be able to kill them easily. I want to draw it out and get some quality entertainment first. Remember, this is just a scouting trip."

Victoria snorted in annoyance and tossed her wild blonde curls in his face, effectively hiding her face from him. James smiled. He found her petulance endearing.

Much like Dawn's actually.

His mind drifted back to their encounter. Dawn's red shirt had only made him think of blood, rich delicious blood that smelled like watermelon, and the twin red bows on the shoulders of the shirt had reminded him of the girl's innocence. Had she been born at the same time he was human, she would have bore several children by now. But in this day and age a young woman was treated like a child.

James licked his lips in anticipation. He would not treat her as a child. In fact, he wanted to derive as much enjoyment out of her before finally biting her. Drawing out the kill was the best part, the most satisfying part.

He continued to watch, patient, as movement occurred on the first floor. A living room, he decided. Or a den. Whatever it was that humans called that oft-empty room in their house that was meant for familial interaction.

His eyes were sharp, the eyes of a true tracker, and he watched a group of girls and three men assemble in the room. There were many of them. Was this an orphanage of some kind? An argument seemed to erupt, centered on the powerful blond girl he had witnessed earlier. Was she the slayer?

When Dawn stood up against the blond girl, James was surprised. He wondered idly why she was standing up to the woman – and why the woman was taking it. When the woman walked out of the house someone must have said something because Dawn practically growled "Shut your mouth."

James did ever so love his keen eyesight and ability to lip read. His groined flared with heat at the fury rolling off from Dawn in waves. She was a fighter. He loved that.

It would make the kill ever so much sweeter.

* * *

Dawn grimaced in annoyance as she saw Faith shut the door to Buffy's room, with Robin inside there. To her side, Willow's door was shut thanks to Kennedy bribing all of the Potentials to let her have a night alone for some sexy time fun. Downstairs Xander and Anya were eating ice cream, and Dawn had caught the subtle hint from Anya to vamoose. If everyone else would be having sex than Anya would figure out a way to have some too, regardless if she and Xander were still separated.

Which meant that the fucking Potentials were spread throughout the basement, the living room, and her bedroom to sleep.

She wanted nothing to do with them at the moment. They had been so damn satisfied when Buffy left that she almost punched someone for the second time tonight – especially when Rona said "Ding dong the witch is dead." Bitch.

Yeah, _okay_, usually she liked Rona. But no one talked about her sister like that.

…even if Dawn had been the one to tell her to leave.

Fuck. Dammit. Dawn didn't really curse but right now she was so damn angry/mad/sad that she wanted to release a stream of curses.

Buffy had to leave. It was the only choice she gave her. If Buffy was going to act Glory-crazy and demand they attack the winery again, then she was clearly not thinking straight. And the way she acted, demanding them all to follow her like some Commie-Nazi person was too much. Dawn knew her sister. There was no way, if she stayed, that she would let anyone else take a turn at leading. She would get her way somehow and it would probably result in more death.

Not that Faith was that much better, but at least kidnapping a Bringer had been an idea that didn't result in bloody wounds.

Besides, maybe this would be good for Buffy. She could clear her head and get away from things for a while, have some time where the weight of leadership didn't fall on her shoulders. Yeah. It really was for the best.

…then why did Dawn feel so shitty about it?

Gritting her teeth, she made the decision to get out of there. The Potentials were already taking over her bedroom – Amanda was the one sharing the bed with her tonight, which at least she liked her fellow Sunnydale classmate – and Dawn didn't want to be with them. She needed her space.

So she crept down the stairs, wincing in disgust at the sounds of everybody 18+ sexin' it up in the house (Well, except Giles. Oh god, at least she _hoped_so), and grabbed an iron dagger hidden underneath the living room end table. Dawn stepped out her front door and gazed at the darkened world surrounding her.

With the power out (probably because the electric company workers peaced out like Alaskan governors eying a book deal), the whole neighborhood was dark. It was a clear night, though, and the stars twinkled prettily in the sky. Out here it was almost peaceful.

Dawn glanced back at the house, debating if she should just stoop it up or actually go for a stroll around the neighborhood. There could be demons. Or Bringers. Or James.

She shivered, and wasn't exactly sure if that was in fear or anticipation.

Her clothes weren't exactly the best for exercise – she was just wearing her sleep clothes, which consisted of a spaghetti tank and flimsy shorts, complete with flip-flops.

Biting her lip, she glanced back at the house again. Inside were sexed-up adults and bitchy girls. Outside was potential danger. Of course, inside could be dangerous as well, since she was tempted to knock out Kennedy or Rona.

Fuck it. She needed some air.

At first she just started walking. The May breeze was cool and fresh. If she closed her eyes she could almost smell the ocean that was a few miles away. If she ignored the dagger in her hand, she could almost pretend she was a normal girl out for an evening stroll. The quiet of the night – no neighbors, no cars – was soothing. If she tried, she could almost forget the events of tonight – and last night, and the night before that, and the night before that. Back when her sister and her friends weren't in _real_danger.

Back when her mom was alive.

Unwanted tears began to form in her eyes. Dawn hated crying. She had spent too much of her life crying. Not anymore. She wasn't weak little Dawnie.

She started running.

Running in flip-flops wasn't easy. Heck, it even kind of hurt; she could feel the dull pains forming in her feet and rising to becoming sharp pains in her ankles. But she didn't care. The pain helped her to focus; or rather to help her mind become a blank slate.

Her footsteps echoed off the empty houses. Slap-slap. Slap-slap. Against the pavement her feet slapped the earth.

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

It felt therapeutic, as if she was literally slapping the earth for every wrong it had ever done to her.

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

Making her from a mysterious Key – something that she still didn't even understand. Her blood opened up a portal once – could it do it again? She had even tried once, after an accidental papercut, but nothing happened. Did that mean her Keyness was defunct? Or was she doing it wrong? With Glory gone did she _truly_have nothing to fear? No one knew, not Giles or Willow or Buffy. And most of the time the Scoobies forget she was even the Key, as if the Monk's memory spell was still working at a weaker level.

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

Taking her mother from her. After all that Buffy had sacrificed, the earth still felt fit to take their mother from them. Joyce Summers had been the only person in the world who made Dawn feel as a number one priority. Buffy tried, but she was always torn between prioritizing her slayer duties, her friends, and Dawn. Mom had been _Dawn's_. And the earth took her away.

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

Buffy. Dead in lieu of Dawn's life, for the survival of the world. Yes, it had only been three months, but it had been the worst three months of her life. '_Look, it's blood. It's Summers' blood_', she had said. Yes, and then Buffy had killed herself for it. For Dawn. Even after her resurrection she hadn't been the same, at least not until almost a year later. So Dawn had gone practically a year without her sister.

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

Tara's death. A miniscule stray bullet. A wicked human – not a demon. Dawn had been the one to find her after Willow had carelessly left her in their bedroom. Tara was like a mother to her, filling in the holes that her real mom had left. And the earth took her from her, like it always does.

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

Dawn let out a scream of anger. She was tired of this, of always being on the defensive, wondering what hand the world would deal her next. Her hand gripped her dagger so tightly that it began to hurt. But pain was good. It helped her to focus.

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

Dawn's ears perked up.

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

She wasn't the only one running now. Cursing herself for being so damn _stupid_she carefully began to circle back to Rodeo drive.

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

Dawn ran faster. If it was a Bringer she could outrun it. If it was a vampire…

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

Glancing behind her, she cursed out loud in a breathless voice; her lungs were already burning from the effort of running. There _was_a Bringer behind her. With a dagger. Of fucking course.

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

He was gaining on her. Dawn was still two blocks away from home.

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

So intent on her running, she didn't notice until the last minute that a Bringer had jumped out of the bushes in front of her. Dawn skidded to a stop, but because she was in flip-flops she lost her balance and fell.

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

The other Bringer was coming. This one was stepping towards her.

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

Dawn kicked out her legs and swept the Bringer's legs out from underneath him. He fell backwards, but his hand was still gripping his dagger. Dawn had yet to kill a Bringer and she didn't know exactly how she would feel about it. They were human once, maybe even still kinda were. They wouldn't explode into dust when they died. Her dagger would be inserted into flesh and blood and come back stained red. Could she do it?

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

Rolling to the side, Dawn stood just as the Bringer leapt up. His dagger-arm sailed towards her and she leaned back just in time to avoid its tip. His arm still in motion, she took advantage of the opening and stabbed her dagger into his shoulder. It plunged all the way through and he dropped his weapon as she yanked it out, cringing at the feeling of tissue tearing beneath her hand. If Bringers had tongues, she wondered if he would have screamed.

_Slap-slap. Slap-slap._

Dawn whirled just in time to see Bringer #2 fly towards her. She dropped to the hard pavement, wincing as it scraped her bare skin. She stabbed him in the foot and he hopped back – if she hadn't been fighting for her life the sight would have been amusing.

She was surprised by a hand on her ankle yanking her backwards along the road. Looking back, she saw Bringer #1 preparing to stab her again (dammit, she should have been watching him! He caught her by surprise!). Dawn scrambled back but his grip was strong. She kicked him with her other foot in his face. Her feet were bare by now and she was pretty sure her heel had broken his nose. It delayed the Bringer by only a moment, but it was just the moment she needed to sit up, lean forward, and thrust her dagger into his neck.

Not making the same mistake twice, Dawn rolled forward to avoid the other Bringer. He moved pretty quickly for a dude with a bleeding foot and she had to scuttle backwards to avoid his kick. She got up as gracefully as possible (which means, not) and held her dagger ready. Bringer #2 embraced his inner Mike Tyson and stepped lightly around her as he waited to strike. Dawn gritted her teeth in determination.

Without a noise (hoping that maybe Bringer dudes worked off of sight through hearing, kinda like bats), Dawn stepped to the side and sought to drive her dagger into his ribs. He realized her move in time and she had to leap back to avoid his own dagger. However, that gave her an opportunity to grab his wrist with her free hand and then use her other arm to place pressure on the outside of his elbow. Something popped and he dropped the dagger. She kicked it away at the same time he knocked her own dagger out of her hand.

Dammit. It was a fairer fight if she had a pointy thing.

He punched her in the face and Dawn stepped backwards from the force of it. The Bringer took advantage of her weakness and kicked her in the stomach. She fell and he was on her like a Bunny on Hugh Hefner – or rather Hugh Hefner on a Bunny, since Dawn was the hot one and the Bringer was totally old, creepy, and gross.

She thrust her hips up but his knees kept her in place. Dawn blocked a punch and elbowed him in his stupid alphabet eyes. He returned the favor by locking his fingers in a vise around her neck.

Great. Like tonight couldn't get worse.

Dawn sought to slide her fingers under his and break the Bringer's grip, but he was clutching her too tightly. Her head began to fill with pressure. She resorted to punching him repeatedly but the guy was a damned pitbull. Knees to his groin didn't help either.

She was getting short of breath. Red began to color the edges of her eyesight, leaving only the image of the Bringers grotesque eye carvings. She hit him again and again, but with each punch she weakened. With each punch she slid closer to death.

Death.

Like so many others she had loved. Buffy, mom, Tara.

At least Dawn didn't fear it. Buffy had loved Heaven. It was indescribably happy and earth was hell in comparison.

No, death wouldn't be that bad…

Dawn's mouth opened in a silent scream as a sudden need for _life_flew up within her. She had things to do. People she cared about. She couldn't die. Not now.

The pressure on her neck faded and she realized that her brain must have told her pain nerves to s.t.f.u. and let her have a painless, merciful death. Thanks brain. That was nice of it.

Cold air hit her throat and she realized that her brain was even nice enough to give her the illusion of life. Aw. Thanks brain.

Maybe she could imagine a different reality in her last moments on earth. Like, that her mom and Tara were waiting for her in Heaven. That would be nice. What would they first do together? Maybe make pizza. Yeah, Dawn loved pizza. With anchovies. Her mom hated it and would pick all the little fishies off and place it on Dawn's side of the pizza. Tara would do the same, not realizing that was exactly what her mom did. So with both of them together with her in Heaven, she would definitely get an epic heaping of tasty 'lil fishies piled up on her pizza. Mmm, yum.

Dawn felt something cool on her neck. A light caress. She sighed in satisfaction. It made the burning remnants of the Bringer's hold on her feel considerably better. Yes, this must be Heaven.

After another moment or so she opened her eyes. Her focus was gone at the moment, and instead everything was fuzzy. But there was a blond person in front of her.

Mom?

But when did her mom wear a jean jacket?

Dawn blinked again and this time her world sharpened. This time she realized that James the vampire was crouched above her, gazing at her in fascination.

Her nose wrinkled in distaste. She had been expecting her mom or Tara. "How the hell did _you_ end up in my Heaven?" she growled irritably.

* * *

A/N:

Hey! Check me out! A long chapter! Yay :)

_References:_  
This chapter takes place in 'Empty Places' and 'Touched'. Dawn's dialogue of "Shut your mouth" is found in 'Empty Places' and directed towards Rona.


	5. Curiosity

**Curiosity…**

"How the hell did _you _end up in my Heaven?" Dawn blinked several times, but James was still the one crouched in front of her…and he was staring at her in bafflement.

"You're not in Heaven, little mortal," he informed her, after a brief pause, in a dry and almost amused voice.

Panic spread through Dawn as she jerked up off the cool cement street, wincing as her head exploded with pain. "You mean I'm in Hell?" she cried out in horror.

Cool hands grabbed the underside of her chin and red eyes peered into her own blue eyes. "You're not dead, Dawn." This time he sounded less amused, and almost concerned – was that weird?

She leaned into his hand without meaning too. It just felt so refreshing and...kind of safe. Then her mind registered his words. "Wait…I'm not?"

James chuckled, his eyes alight with humor, and he settled back on the balls of his feet, still crouching. His unbuttoned jean jacked exposed almost his entire chest; the pale skin was lit under the soft moonlight. "Not for a lack of trying on his part." His thumb jerked backwards towards the Bringer that had been choking her. A bloody crescent mark was on his neck and the body was stiff. That Bringer was definitely dead.

"You-you killed him," she choked out. Gratitude flared within her, followed by fear. That blood was an important reminder that this was a vampire in front of her.

"Would you rather I didn't?" James asked with a raised brow, his voice cool and intrigued.

"No!" Dawn shook her head. "I'm grateful. Just…"

"Surprised?"

She nodded.

"Come now, Dawn. Haven't you ever heard of good vampires that help out humans?" James asked her in a suave voice and an impish smile.

Her response was to laugh in his face before getting shakily to her feet. He stared at her in pure shock.

"Nice try, hot-version-of-the-Turok-Han," Dawn scoffed. "But be as it may, I actually do know _two_vampires with souls who help humans. They're the only two of their kind, so nice try at impersonating them." She eyed his clothes critically. "Next time I'd suggest wearing leather or lots of hair products, depending on whether you want the Spike or Angel look." Dawn's nose crinkled in distaste. "You should probably avoid the hair products – they are kind of combustible." Wryly, she wondered if Angel purchased special hair products that didn't invite explosions when met with a flame. In fact, she wished she had thought of this back when he was all 'grr' and Buffy didn't know how to stop him.

James jumped up to his feet and gave her an affronted look. "I'm not trying to impersonate anyone, girl. I am James, the legendary tracker," he boasted.

Dawn wasn't impressed by his description. In her opinion D'Hoffryn had the most badass introduction. "Right. And a good vampire?" she asked in a tone that dripped with sarcasm as she crossed her arms.

James laughed and then took her arm; much like guys did in old Civil War movies or something, and began leading her back to her house. "Good?" he repeated with another laugh. James shrugged. "Depends on your viewpoint, I suppose. I did, however, save you."

His arm around her bare skin sent a thrill of excitement down her spine, but she fought to refrain from showing emotion. Luckily her voice was still hoarse so at least she didn't sound all girly and high-pitched when she spoke. "Not that I'm complaining…but why did you?" Dawn asked curiously.

Red eyes glowed at her in the dark night. "I saw you fight your attackers. I was impressed," he stated simply. However, she got the feeling that not many things impressed James.

"Oh," Dawn whispered. With his face straight ahead, inspecting their destination, she took the moment to steal a glance at him. He really was hot, she decided. She had never really considered the hotness of long hair before – well, besides some Brad Pitt movies – but she had to say it suited James. If only his eyes were a pretty green or blue, instead of red, and he would be totally yummy.

Sadly, he had scary red vampire eyes…and was a scary vampire. But he _had _saved her…

"Again, I'm totally thankful that you pulled a knight-in-shining-armor-moment back there, and now are being all classy-male-escort taking me back home, but—" Dawn winced, especially when James started laughing at her choice of words. Grimacing, she slapped his arm – and then winced when she remembered just how hard his body was; ouch. "I didn't mean it to sound all dirty-sexy, just like, old-fashioned!" she explained with a huff.

James pivoted to face her and ran a hand through her silky long hair. "Do you _want_ it to be all dirty and sexy?" he asked in a sultry voice that got her all tingly in places that probably _shouldn't_ be getting all tingly when there was a vampire around!

"No." Dammit. Dawn _meant_ for that to sound a _lot _more forceful than it came out – breathless and soft.

Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, James decreased the space between them and ran his thumb over her lips in tantalizing slow movements. "No? Are you sure?"

She nodded, albeit slowly, before frowning as she came to her senses. "Do I _look _like Buffy? Vampires are not my deal."

"Except for that one Halloween," James reminded her with a supple smile.

Damn her babbling mouth that never should have told him about that! "Uh, yes. Except for that," she scowled. Then – even though part of her body totally wanted to give in right now – Dawn let out a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes at him. "Look, I've got an apocalypse on my hands and I gotta research an almost invincible demonic-infused human and his merry band of blind mice." She gestured towards him and then towards her. "This? Ain't happening. I've got enough to deal with already."

Taking a step back, he gave her an appraising look. Finally, he straightened his back and shrugged – an odd graceful movement that seemed almost feline. "Perhaps I can help you."

Immediately Dawn was wary. "How? Earlier tonight you didn't even know what Turok-Han were. I doubt you know about the First Evil and Caleb."

James appeared thoughtful. "_Well_, I am rather strong." He smiled. "Likely much stronger than even the Slayer."

Dawn balked. Did he know about Buffy being her sister? At the Bronze he had thought that _she _was the slayer until she denied otherwise. Hmm. Dawn didn't like the idea of enlisting the aid of someone who would be just as apt to kill Buffy as Caleb was.

Especially now that she was feeling all guilty over what had happened with Buffy back at the house.

Although, he _could _be helpful. Maybe.

Okay, him being hot really didn't hurt (damn teenage hormones).

Dawn gave him an intrigued look as her curiosity won out. "Just how strong are you?"

James gave her a brilliant smile, his red eyes almost shining with anticipation. At what, she didn't quite know…and wasn't quite sure if she wanted to know.


	6. Vampires & PorchSwings Don't Seem Like M

**Vampires & PorchSwings Don't Seem Like Mixy Things**

With the electricity out, the neighborhood was lit by only the soft streams of moonlight escaping from wispy clouds overhead. The area was devoid of sound, besides the soft '_slap-slap_' of Dawn's flip-flops; like a perfect predator, James footsteps produced no noise. Her arm once again tucked into his, he led her onto the front porch of an abandoned house only four houses away from her own. The house, formerly owned by the Gutierrez family before they went to visit relatives in Tijuana (and _wow_, you knew the Hellmouth was spewing extra evil when it was considered safer in one of the most dangerous cities on the West coast), was creamy white and featured a porch swing. Dawn was surprised when James motioned for her to sit on it and then settled himself in next to her – the Brad Pitt of evil here didn't exactly seem like the porch swing type.

Her amusement must have shown on her face because James raised a quizzical eyebrow. "What is so funny now?"

"Nothing," Dawn answered quickly. After all, now her wannabe-Watcher-y senses were tingling and she didn't want to wound his badass vampire pride by making fun of him wanting to sit on a porch swing. Then he might not tell her anything!

Well, or kill her. She had to keep reminding herself that was a possibility. Yet somehow she didn't get the feeling that he _was_ going to kill her. Or maybe that was just her hormones talking.

…Yup. Having no alone time and being surrounded entirely by females was not of the good.

James leaned back leisurely and used his feet to rock the swing back and forth. "A gleam enters your eye when you are pondering amusing thoughts." He shot her a teasing grin. "If I am to tell my secrets, is it not right that you tell me yours?"

She gave him an irritated look. Dawn _hated _it when people could read her easily; she knew she wasn't exactly Ms. Poker Face. "I just thought it was funny that a big bad vampire wanted to sit on a porch swing. It didn't exactly go with my mental image," she replied in a huff.

Bursting out laughing, James glanced around at their surroundings. "Yes, I suppose I see you point." He tossed her a sly wink. "Were you perhaps imagining our conversation someplace else, such as in a bed?" Cool fingers trailed down her arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"N-no," she stammered. Well, okay, it had passed her mind…but, hey! No alone time and surrounded by girls!

Not that Dawn was experienced or anything. Besides the vamp make out last year and a couple sessions with this guy at school, Carlos, that she dated (without Buffy knowing; although she had saved him from zombies on the first day of school, so she _probably_would have approved), she had zero experience. And call her silly and a stupid girl, but she kind of wanted to experience something before the world ended.

…uh, not that it _would_, of course. She had faith in Buffy.

Dawn snorted. 'Faith' in Buffy. Hey, that had actually happened a couple years back!

Looking up, she realized that James was staring at her with the most puzzled expression. "You are rather odd, aren't you?" The rhetorical question carried a tone of fascinated amusement.

Feeling slightly embarrassed by her mental wanderings, she rolled her eyes defensively. "Hey, I'm hanging out past midnight with a super strong kinda-evil vampire, chilling on a porch swing, while big evil is a-brewing beneath us. Do you think most girls my age do this sort of stuff?"

James let out surprised laugh – and then stunned her by leaning in and pressing his cool lips against hers.

Oh…_wow_. This was…Honestly, Dawn was reconsidering her possible death because this felt a little like Heaven. James smelled as he did earlier – sweet and fluffy, like cotton candy – and the smell literally drew her in. The feel of him against her sent a flood of warmth through her and she let out a breathy sigh. Suddenly needing more, she went to part his lips with her tongue, and was disappointed when he pulled back.

Catching her breath, Dawn looked into his eyes – and froze when his eyes were black as flint. She remembered what that meant. "You're hungry," she accused in a low whisper.

James smiled seductively. "Oh, my dearest Dawn, there are many types of hunger."

She shifted uncomfortably on the swing, unsure what to make of his comment, and avoided eye contact. "Okay, so you said you might be able to help us. So, let's start with the basics. How strong are you and what are your weaknesses." Yeah, in case I need to kill you because you get all fang-y on me…

Sighing at the change in topic, James squinted his eyes and pressed his hand to his temple, as if he was in intense concentration. Knowing better than to aggravate a hungry vampire, Dawn let him have a moment to collect himself. A few minutes later he turned to her and his eyes were lightening to red. "Fine then, watermelon. If you want to learn more about me, I would be glad to tell you." He paused, and then, almost as if he couldn't help himself (judging by the appearance of an impish smile), he added, "Of course, I would be glad to _show_you more about me as well."

Dawn scowled – and hoped that it was dark enough under the shade of the porch to hide her blush. "Honestly, do you think you're some sort of vampire Casanova?" she asked in exasperation.

Chuckling, James shrugged. "I decided long ago that if I was going to be immortal than I was going to enjoy it."

That caught Dawn's attention. "How long ago was that?"

James paused; he clearly hadn't prepared on divulging personal information tonight. "Long enough."

"Weren't you the one earlier saying we were sharing secrets tonight?" Dawn asked with a teasing smile as she crossed her legs yoga-style and learned towards the vampire.

"I was going to tell you the secrets of the vampires, little mortal. That itself carries a death penalty for me. You should be pleased I am choosing to disclose that much information," James told her seriously.

Hmm, to pursue the age thing or the info that results in death…tough choice. "Death penalty?" Dawn asked skeptically. "You're hard as rock. Who can kill you?"

He shrugged carelessly. "My kind are governed by the Volturi, a government of sorts."

"Volturi? Isn't that Latin for 'vulture'?"

James nodded in approval. "You are well educated. Yes, I think it means that. Quite frankly books were never my strong suit – I've always been more of an action sort," he grinned.

Dawn just shook her head, starting to get used to his thick charm. "So who are they?"

"Some of the oldest of us. Very powerful and they enjoy recruiting especially gifted vampires for their coven in Italy."

"Gifted? Gifted how?" Now in 'watcher-y mode', Dawn couldn't help but pepper him with questions.

"It seems to be commonly found that if a human is gifted in some way in life – perhaps precognition or mental prowess of some kind – that will carry over into their vampire life. Only, the gifts progress immensely. For example, someone who had good intuition would, as a vampire, be able to literally see into a person's mind with a touch."

Dawn shivered. "That's creepy."

"It is," James agreed with a curt nod. He hated those Volturi bastards and their controlling ways.

"So, they just make all the rules? And everyone has to follow?"

James nodded. "Yes. Failure to follow the rules – which ultimately boils down to not revealing ourselves to humans – is punishable by the true death."

Dawn took a moment to assess James with a critical eye. "So why are you telling me all this? Do you really have a death wish or something?"

"Not in the least," James contradicted as he began to mindlessly toy with the hem of her red tank top. Every once in a while his finger would brush against her bare stomach and her nerves would clench in response. She probably _should_ stop him…but it felt too good.

"Then what?" she asked, trying to refocus on their conversation.

He winked. "I enjoy breaking the rules, Dawn. It makes life much more thrilling."

Dawn took that in, trying to figure this vampire out. He was hot and charming, sure, but also a mystery – saving her, defying his big 'vampires only' rule, and basically acting like a rebel without a cause. She really wasn't quite sure what his game plan here was.

But then his finger brushed lightly against her torso and she got momentarily distracted.

"Why?" Dawn simply asked.

James' head tilted as he gave her a mystified look. "Why, what?"

"Why do you like to break the rules?" Dawn was genuinely curious about this question.

His hand discontinued fingering the hem of her shirt as he leaned back almost awkwardly. "For fun," he finally answered after some hesitation.

"Yeah, but why? Why care so much about breaking rules?"

"I don't like rules," James told her flatly.

"Why?"

"I find them tiresome, much as I find certain young mortal ladies at times." All humor was gone from James' face. If Dawn had not been genetically formed as an irritating younger sister, she probably would have gotten that hint better.

"Oh, well I'll be sure to tell all the mortal young ladies I see," Dawn said sarcastically. "Now, really, what is it about rule breaking that you like so much? Is it the rebel thing? And if so, why have a jean jacket and not a leather jacket?" she mused.

"Do not mock me," James stated in a low voice.

Dawn threw up her hands in surrender and rolled her eyes. "Oh my god, so not mocking, drama queen." She frowned as she remembered her earlier thoughts. "On second thought, Angel is the more dramatic one, so you should probably do the hair-gel thing and not the leather duster."

"You're mad, aren't you?" James asked in awe.

Misunderstanding, Dawn shook her head. "No, I'm not mad, just annoyed that you're getting all panty-twisted with a simple question. I mean, I just don't get the whole rebel act. Like, once you know you're living forever, why be like that?"

"Because following the rules is what brought death to me and mine, long ago, girl! I will be no one's slave again!" James roared angrily, his voice echoing through the silent neighborhood.

Dawn sat still beside him, stunned at his response. For his part, he looked just as staggered by his sudden outburst and was now staring at the floorboards of the porch.

Dawn didn't quite know what to say. There was no telling how old James was, so no guesses as to what he endured. But whatever it was, it must have been bad.

She laid her hand over his; he flinched slightly at the unexpected touch. Cautiously, he turned to look into her eyes – whatever he expected to find, he did not, because he looked surprised. "I'm sorry," Dawn said softly.

"I do not need your pity, mortal," he spoke stiffly.

"No," Dawn acquiesced. "You don't need it – and you don't have it." He gazed at her thoughtfully. "What you have is one person sharing condolences with you." Dawn shrugged. "Someone great once told me that 'the hardest thing to do in this world is to live in it'."

James let out a harsh laugh. "I think you forget that I am not 'exactly' alive, Dawn."

She snorted. "Who knows? Maybe none of us are and a kid is just having some wacky nightmare."

"You have the most peculiar thoughts," James said with a wry grin as he relaxed once more.

"Eh," she shrugged. "That actually sort of happened; some kid dreamed stuff and it really happened."

"What?" James asked in shock. "How? Witchcraft?"

"No," Dawn smirked. "Although we have some of that –both bad and good – too. Honestly, didn't you do your Hellmouth research before you got here?"

James shook his head with an eager smile. "I am aware of the supernatural occurrences, but only vaguely."

Dawn started giggling in anticipation. "Okay, well then I _have_ to tell you about the talking dummy – ooh, and the 'my will' spell."


	7. Intentions

**Intentions**

Their voices blended together that night, telling stories of each other's lives, for hours. The moon passed over them and now neared the western horizon. Light blue streaks leaked through the midnight sky and the morning was greeted by cheerful birds – birds who apparently didn't realize there wasn't much to be happy about on the Hellmouth.

Although surprisingly, the birds managed to reflect Dawn's happiness – something she did not expect to feel in the end days. As long as she avoided asking James about his personal past, he was very open to sharing all of his vampire secrets with her. He discussed their vampire rules, leaders, and strengths and weaknesses in depth – which she found surprising. James and his kind were like nothing she had ever heard about, and all she could think was to start researching through Giles' books when she got home.

Home.

Dawn glanced away from James as he talked about how much he hated techno music in European clubs – apparently it really hurt sensitive vampire ears like hell – and looked towards her house. A new day was starting and she knew that she needed to get home soon before anyone got worried. But the idea of leaving James produced a hollow feeling in her stomach that both worried and confused her. After all, he _was_a vampire.

'_Yeah, and so was Angel,_' a stubborn mental voice reminded her.

Okay, ewww, no. James was not like Angel. For one, he totally wasn't broody. Actually, he laughed a lot. The corners of his eyes would crease slightly and a hint of white teeth would gleam past his full lips, and every time she saw it her stomach would flip at the sight.

Horrified as to where her mind was going, Dawn gave a resolute shake of her head. Geez, apparently four or five hours with James and she's embracing the darker side of her Summers heritage. Hecate help her!

"You are off in your own world again, Watermelon," James remarked with an indulgent smile.

Dawn smiled, embarrassed. Honestly, she normally didn't act like this. Or, well, actually she did sometimes but usually her friends were so engrossed in hearing the sound of their voice (Janice!) that they never noticed her mental wanderings. Damn James and his sharp vampire senses.

James glanced from her to the eastern horizon, where the sun was yet to rise above the row of houses in their eye-line but the sky was brightening in shades of orange and pink. "Sometimes I have the feeling that you are not of this world." His voice was soft and carried with it something deeper, as if a part of his truly believed she was not what she appeared.

Laughing nervously, Dawn shook her head, hoping his vampire senses couldn't see 'Key' type things. "Wha-what? Me? Heh, is this just another lame pick-up line and your way of saying I am out of this world?"

Chuckling lowly, James gave her a discerning look. "Please. I do have standards, you know. I won't say just anything. In fact," he added with a bright smile, "I believe that I have been the perfect gentleman tonight. Aren't you proud?"

Legs still folded on the porch swing, Dawn sat sideways and leaned back, her palms resting on the armrest. "Wow, you went several hours without making a move. Yes, you deserve an award, a certificate of some kind," she remarked in a dry tone.

"An award would be nice." His voice was low and her body reacted sharply to his suggestive tone.

Realizing that she couldn't trust herself, not in this moment, Dawn jumped to her feet. After all, she had to get home and get a researchin' and definitely _not_make out with a vampire – even if earlier tonight he did offer to help fight Caleb the next time the slayers went after the demon-infused man.

"Uh, okay, well, it's getting late – er, early – and I better get home. Demon-y fighting time, you see," she stammered nervously, toying with a strand of her hair. Not for the first time tonight, Dawn felt underdressed in her pajamas of a red spaghetti-strap tank and short shorts.

James got to his feet smoothly and took her hand in his. His skin was cool against hers, but it was not an unwelcome feeling. On the contrary, his touch made her breath catch in her throat.

"Must you leave so soon?" James inquired softly as his thumb ran over her cheek.

Dawn swallowed heavily. "James, what do you want from me?" She spoke honestly, not even realizing what she was saying until it was halfway said. It was just, he _said _all the perfect things and if she had learned one thing from Buffy's relationships, it was that all men were bad, somehow. Either they turned evil after sex, used you for sex, cheated on you with blood-drinking whores, or tried to rape you; no man was safe.

Especially a vampire.

Red eyes peered curiously at her. "You are serious."

Dawn's head inclined downwards in an imperceptible nod.

James was silent. Looking up at him, she saw that his face was suddenly taut and his eyes were misted over, as if he were struggling to think deeply on something. Finally he spoke in a very quiet tone that carried no traces of his usual humor. "I thought I knew, but now I'm not so sure anymore."

Pressing her lips together, Dawn tried to determine what that meant. "Is…that a good thing?"

A smile slid over James face. "For you, yes."

His smile weakened her and she placed the palms of her hands on his bare chest. "Okay then."

James just laughed and pulled her by the waist, closer to him. "And just what do you want from _me_, Watermelon? Is my chastity safe with you?"

"Ah…" Dawn looked away, laughing slightly. "Somehow I'm guessing that a vampire isn't exactly chaste."

"Why, that's rather discriminatory, don't you think?" James sniffed, his smile evidence of his amusement. "That's vampire-ism."

"Right," Dawn drawled with a skeptical look. "Right, because you look so innocent, James."

He smirked and began playing with the hem of her tank top again. "Ah, so perhaps I am not quite chaste, anymore. And you?"

"And me what?" Dawn asked with wide eyes, knowing what he meant but too embarrassed to answer.

James' head tilted to the side. "Have you ever been with a man, Dawn? Or a woman?" he added with an impish smile.

She wet her lips, unsure of what to say. Finally, she just decided to be honest. Besides, if the First won, it wasn't exactly like she had a lot of time in this world, right?

"No," Dawn answered. A teasing smiled played along her lips. "Not yet, anyway."

James' eyes brightened, black blending to red. He pulled her body flush against his; Dawn felt every muscle of his body, the cool skin of his bare stomach, and the hardness of his response to her words. Gently, as if she were made of porcelain – and to one of his strength, she may as well have been – he cupped her cheek and lightly brushed his lips against hers. Dawn whimpered, sparks flaring in her chest and echoing along every nerve cell in her body. Wrapping her arm around him, Dawn tried to press herself as tight as possible against him, and deepened the kiss.

Neither of them noticed a pair of red eyes watching in the shadows of a nearby tree.

* * *

A/N:

FYI, there will be some FR-21action in the next chapter. I'm debating on details. I know some people don't like that, others do, and others just don't care either way. If you have an opinion, do holler in a review :) Gracias!


	8. Pleasure & Pain

**_NOTE: This chapter is rated FR21_**

**Pleasure & Pain**

A/N:

Also, this chapter is rated FR-21 and contains some deliciously naughty things. If you are a youngin', perhaps you should skip this chapter…

* * *

One minute James was holding Dawn and kissing her on the Gutierrez family's porch, the next she felt air rushing past her, and then she was in the master bedroom of the home. James lowered her gently to the bed while he savagely attacked her lips, sucking almost painfully so on her bottom lip. Dawn let out a little noise of surprise and raked her nails down his back in response, her fingers running over the rough fabric of his denim jacket. James pulled away from her to quick throw off his jacket, leaving his upper body bare, and then began kissing her in earnest once more.

"Mmm," James moaned, his voice muffled against her neck as his tongue ran down her neck. "I want to taste you. I _need_to taste you, Dawn."

Feeling like she had been doused with cold water, Dawn jerked away from him. "You're _so_not biting me," she stated forcefully, responding to her initial interpretation of his words. Dawn's heart was pounding in her chest, partly due to his touch and partly due to the danger she was suddenly in.

James pressed his palms to the bed and hoisted himself up, but was still hovering over her, and staring at her with a slightly amused smile. "I will not be biting you, Watermelon. If I do so, you would die."

Dawn shivered and swallowed loudly. Suddenly wary, she gazed at him fearfully. "Why? Because you would drain me?"

Chuckling, James pulled back and sat down onto the king-sized mattress. The room was dark with just the burgeoning sunrise filtering through the window blinds, and his face was hidden in shadow. "Unlike some others of my kind, I possess the willpower to be able to stop," he stated smugly. "When I want something badly enough, that is."

"Then why would I die?" Dawn asked, her heart slowing down now that it seemed that the danger may have passed.

He gave her a wide smile. "My venom is lethal. It turns my victims, unless they have been drained and killed, into vampires."

Sitting up, Dawn scooted backwards until her back touched the headboard. "Wha-what? I'm sorry…venom? Like…a snake?" she asked incredulously, staring at him as he nodded in agreement. This was completely new to her and _definitely_not something that James had brought up earlier when he spoke about his type of vampire. "So what happens if you accidentally bite me?"

He smiled; it was almost patronizing in that 'I'm an ancient vampire and you're a silly young mortal' type of way. "I will not. Do not worry, Dawn."

Still skeptical, she made no attempt to move closer to him and gnawed on her lip. "Then…what did you mean by tasting me?"

James moved forward, a stream of early morning sun illuminating his face and highlighting an eager smile slowly sliding across his face. His eyes drifted down her body before stopping to boldly gaze at her waist. "My intention was to taste a certain part of you, Dawn. If, that is, you hold any interest in that." His eyes flickered up to her face, his smile now turning smug.

Dawn's lips parted in surprise as she gaped at James' words. He wanted to…_taste_taste her?

Simultaneously several thoughts passed through her mind.

First, her friend Kit had told her about it once when her boyfriend had done it to her – and Dawn had been so jealous at the time.

Second, she was surprised by the flood of heat suddenly filling her, burning her, desiring his touch.

Third, she was nervous. After all, he was a _vampire_ - and no, she wasn't suddenly worried about him killing her but more so worried about his keen sense of smell and, oh god, when had she last showered? Well, the potentials had been hogging the shower this morning - _wait_, make that yesterday morning since the birds were officially singing and the sun was starting to shine again – and that meant she hadn't showered in over a day…oh god, what if she was, like, gross?

James startled her by settling his lips onto hers and lightly pulling her hair as he raked his fingers through her mane. Moaning in response, Dawn felt her body involuntarily arch to his demand. Her clothes swiftly felt like they were suffocating her, tightening around her body, and she wanted them _off_.

Pulling away briefly, James gave her a rakish wink – just as he had at the Bronze earlier tonight.

_God_, had that just been tonight? Call her Trampzilla. A part of Dawn's mind questioned what she was doing and if she should continue, but then James right hand began to lightly fondle her breast while his tongue performed wonders on her neck, and then, dammit, she didn't really care anymore.

Besides, it was usually the virgins that died in dark rituals, anyways. So really, she was just setting herself up for safety!

"More," Dawn murmured as her lips found James' ear and she began to trace the outline of it with her tongue, before sucking his earlobe. His body froze in response, a grunt sounded out, and Dawn had the feeling she surprised him with her earnest actions.

In a rush of movement, James had pulled off her red tank top, bra, shorts, and panties, leaving Dawn gasping on the bed.

"I'll give you much more," he promised in a husky voice, his lips curved in delight. He took her left breast in his mouth, licking and sucking, as his hand massaged her other breast. Dawn whimpered as the sensations reverberated through her body. This was…_amazing_.

As he rubbed his thumb over her hardening nipple, a shiver ran through Dawn's body. He was driving her body crazy – although his body was almost cold to the touch, he filled her with such heat that the polar opposite temperatures were driving her nerves into a tizzy.

His lips left her breast and began to travel lightly down her stomach, causing her to shiver once more, but for this time a much different reason. Dawn knew intellectually what James was preparing to do, but she really had no idea what to expect. After all, Kit had said that her boyfriend Bobby _hated_ doing it, and that most guys did too. And if they did do it, then they expected the girls to reciprocate…and Dawn honestly didn't feel comfortable doing that (because, honestly, she had _no_idea what to do. One time she and Janice had pretended to do it to a cherry popsicle, but that had just turned out with them getting sticky and their tongues turning bright red).

"Relax, Watermelon," James whispered.

Dawn looked down at him guiltily. God, she was _so_not sexy. He must be able to tell she was freaking out. "I'm relaxed," she reassured him. However, her voice came out kind of high-pitched, and it didn't take vampiric ears to hear the nervousness in them.

Giving her a gentle smile, James began to massage her upper thighs. "There is nothing to be nervous about." His smiled turned positively wicked. "In fact, I guarantee in thirty seconds you will completely forget about being nervous." James licked his lips slowly and gave her a smoldering stare.

Now with her desire heightened, Dawn could only stare dumbly in response.

Chuckling softly with a knowing smile, James returned to leaving a trail of kisses down her stomach, past her belly button, and onto the soft curls of her pubic mound. Dawn's body went rigid as he touched her most intimate place and then, as his tongue delivered a tentative stroke, she took in a shaky breath; suddenly she found it difficult to breathe. She heard James chuckle softly and then his tongue was back on her, _in_her, and Dawn let out a low, breathy moan.

Eyes clenched shut; her hips seemed to have a mind of their own as her body writhed under his touch. It felt good, _so_good, and Dawn didn't want it ever to stop.

"Yes," she whispered as his tongue began thrusting into her at a frenzied rate. A mewl-like cry passed her lips as she felt him penetrate her with one single finger. The invasion was unexpected but welcome, yet it was also slightly painful at the same time it was pleasurable. Dawn felt James' finger revolve in a clockwise motion, rubbing against her before pulling out and then penetrating her again.

"You're so tight, Watermelon," James whispered, his voice filled with an almost boy-like awe.

Dawn opened her eyes, breathing heavily, to look at him. His face was resting on top of her upper right thigh and he had one index finger raised; it was coated with her juices and glistening in the soft glow of the rising sun. Eyes focused on her, James lowered his finger to his mouth and sucked on it, devouring the juices, devouring _her_.

She swallowed heavily at the image, writhing even more.

Smirking, James winked at her and lowered his head again. He inserted two fingers, pulling in and out of her gently, while his tongue traced patterns over her clitoris before he gently sucked on it, bringing out an animalistic sound from her, and then a whimper as he added a third finger and began moving more vigorously.

It still hurt when he penetrated her but _oh_his tongue felt so good and there was something inherently satisfying by filled up by his touch, moving her hips in time to the thrusting of his fingers.

As the tempo increased she found her hips moving up and down, wanting more, needing more of his touch, and then _oh_ there was something, the edge of something, she could feel it, almost there, and then as James' tongue titillated her clitoris and his fingers thrust inside her, she _felt_ something, felt _it_, and suddenly for one perfect moment everything in the world was wonderful again. Dawn's body shuddered, moans tearing from her lips, and then finally she sank back down into the bed, satisfied; all the energy suddenly sapped from her body.

Her eyes were closed as she sought to memorize this feeling. If Dawn could just replay that moment, that feeling, and live in that loop forever, she would.

A low, guttural moan came from the other end of the bed and she felt James' tongue on her again. Her hips jerked up. Dawn had to give it to the guy; he really knew how to please a woman. Here he had just given her the best (well, and only) orgasm of her life and he was already working on number two.

Dawn's lips curved into a satisfied smile and she opened up her eyes to watch James once more. She blinked and let out a hiss of air as he licked her once more. Her eyes watched his head bob up and down and—

She paused. Because right at that moment she saw blood on James' lower lip.

Her blood.


	9. So that's Why Vampires Like Virgins

**So *that's* Why Vampires Like Virgins...**

Dawn screamed, one long note of terror that had James looking up at her curiously, his lips pursed in puzzlement, those drops of blood clinging to his lower lip. She shuffled backwards against the headboard, her earlier sluggishness forgotten in her terror. "What, what are you doing?" she panted anxiously.

James pulled himself up with languid ease, like a leopard in the tree tops. His eyebrow raised a centimeter, and a sly smile spread over his face. "I do believe I was performing cunnillingus, Dawn."

"Wha—?" Dawn let out a huff of air as she shook her head, so angry and scared that she was struggling to find the proper words. "You-you-you are _drinking_ my _blood_!" Dawn wasn't stupid – she knew James was too strong for her to fight off, but she grabbed the closest thing handy and threw it with all her might at him.

The pillow smacked James in the face and fell soundlessly into his lap. He looked down in bafflement at the pillow and then back at her. "Dawn…you…threw a _pillow _at me?" Annoyingly enough he burst into hearty laughter, the bed vibrating with his guffaws.

More aggravated than scared now, Dawn yanked another pillow and slid off the bed, wincing at the slight pain she felt in her no-man's land (er, except that wasn't quite true anymore, now was it?). She covered her nude form with the pillow and stared angrily at James, who was still laughing. "I thought you said you weren't going to bite me!" Dawn shouted. Then, she remembered what James had told her about vamp venom. "Holy shit, did you just turn me into a vampire?" she exclaimed.

James paused in his laughter to stare at her in surprise, and then he began laughing even harder.

Furious, Dawn threw the pillow at him again and began putting her clothes back on, muttering to herself all the while. She was stunned when James came up behind her to wrap his cool arms around her and began kissing her shoulder blades and the back of her neck. The coldness of his body ( and his presence, although she was loathe to admit it at this point) sent a shiver down her spine.

Letting out a warrior cry, she followed the moves that Buffy had taught her and thrust her elbow backwards to get her attacker off of her. Unfortunately, his skin was harder than her bones and Dawn felt a crack fissure at her elbow and pain traveled through her nerves system.

"Owwww. Ow, ow, ow, ow, owwww," she moaned, cradling her right arm to her chest, relieved that James nonetheless let go of her. "Look what you did!" Dawn shouted at him.

The corners of James' lips twitched. "Dawn, didn't we already make it clear how much stronger I am than you?"

The white-hot pain was flashing within her arm, even showing up under her eyelids every time she closed her eyes. "It's your fault!" Dawn grumbled, rubbing her hand softly over her elbow.

James sighed and sat on the bed. "Dawn, I was only kissing you. And the blood? That was your virgin's blood, a result of your ripped hymen. I was merely reaping the rewards of my efforts." He winked and Dawn wanted to kill him, to hell with the fact that she was a weak little girl compared to him.

"So you just…performed…cunnillingus…on me because you wanted to have a free taste at my blood?" Dawn shouted outrageously.

James shrugged. "Well now, you certainly cannot say I am the only one who enjoyed the experience," he said pointedly.

"Yeah, b-but—ugh!" Dawn threw her good arm up in the air as she glared at James. Now, just one-armed, she began to pull on her panties.

"Dawn."

She looked up to see James pouting, but his eyes glowed with amusement. "Don't tell me you're leaving."

"Fine, I won't tell you I'm leaving – I'm going to tell you that _you're_ leaving," Dawn ordered as she pulled on her shorts. Her tank top was a bitch to put on and screw even trying to do a bra one-handed.

He gazed at her, nonplussed. "Is that so?"

"Yes. You came here wanting to kill the slayer and then – then! – are only nice to me to get in my pants and drink my blood. So yeah, you're not welcome. This is my town and we have enough crap going on," Dawn informed him heatedly, hand on her pain-riddled elbow.

Something flashed and she blinked, only to realize that James was standing in front of her. The back of his hand pressed against her cheek and Dawn stood very still, so not wanting to get hurt again.

"Dawn, trust me when I saw that I was _not_just nice to you to drink your blood. If I didn't…like…you then you would be dead. And believe me when I say that I do not often find a human that I like." James' voice was soft but it hit Dawn like a monsoon, forcing hope to spring forth from where she had buried it at the realization he was drinking her blood.

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. "And the slayer? Are you still here to kill her? Or will you really help fight the First Evil with us?"

James paused, his head tilting to the side. "With…us? You _and_the slayer?"

"Yes." Dawn wanted an answer from him; it was a sudden and necessary desire. She could feel herself falling for his charm again and her logical half knew she needed to distance herself from him – a dangerous vampire – and she knew his answer would do that.

He backed away, looking at her with a severe expression. "So you know the slayer."

In for a penny, in for a pound. "She's my sister."

James' red eyes flashed and his lips curled back in anger. "Why did you not mention this sooner?"

Dawn swallowed heavily. "It's not really much of a secret around here on the Hellmouth."

He spat a curse, something in a different language, which sounded harsh to her ears. "Well then, I cannot aid you. My…one of my brethren has come to kill the slayer."

Dawn's heart skipped a beat, before speeding up, producing the only sound in the empty house. "You can't," she whispered.

James grimaced and each passing moment placed more and more pressure upon her heart until she thought it would burst. His kind of vampire was too strong and could only be killed by fire, and even that was a long shot. Buffy couldn't take them.

She would die.

And Dawn just hooked up with her sister's killer.

James' sudden growl startled her and she looked up to see him throwing the nightstand against the wall, causing splinters to fly through the air. She ducked behind the bed, avoiding the shrapnel. When she looked up the window was open and James was gone.

Damn. She had to get home, _now_.

Dawn ran in her flip-flops down to her house, less than a block away. The sun was higher in the sky right now and she guessed it was almost eight in the morning – which was bad because that was when most people were waking up.

She flung open the door, not entirely surprised to see Giles and Xander discussing something heatedly, with Anya and Willow standing around them. They looked up to see her and Willow gave out a little cry of happiness and rushed to hug Dawn. Her arms pressed against Dawn's broken elbow and Dawn let out a squeal of pain.

"Dawn? What is it? Are you hurt?" Willow asked as she inspected Dawn with a gaze so intent that it would melt most criminals into a puddle.

_'Except, you're not a criminal. You didn't do anything bad. Well, not really…'_Dawn thought to herself.

"I'm fine." Seeing the looks of her family – they weren't blood but they were her family – Dawn shook her head. "Okay, not fine. I kinda broke my elbow."

"How?" Willow murmured in shock. "Dawn, what were you doing? Rona said you weren't there when she went to bed and weren't again this morning. Where have you been?" she asked worriedly.

"O-out," Dawn responded softly. She shrugged. "I was…I don't know, upset about what I said to Buffy last night – what we _all_said – and I went for a walk."

"Dawn, of all the foolish things to do," Giles sighed, disappointed and angry with her.

"I ran into some Bringers." They gasped. "And I killed two but the third almost killed me – until a vampire saved me." Dawn looked at Giles. "The one from the Bronze last night."

"The unknown breed?" Giles asked as he went about polishing his glasses feverishly.

Dawn nodded.

"Wait, what? There was a vampire at the Bronze? And you talked to him?" Xander asked incredulously. "Dawn, what were you thinking?"

"Oh my god, it's not like I gave him my number or anything! He just started talking to me. And then tonight – er, this morning – he told me about his kind and how they're strong – I mean _strong _like uber-vamp strong except totally human looking, minus the red eyes." Dawn took a deep breath. "Anyways he said they're after the slayer – one of 'his brethren' want to kill her," she informed them with complimentary air quotes.

"Well yes, Dawn, isn't that what he told you last night?" Giles asked, puzzled.

"Well…_yeah_ but I didn't think it was serious…" Dawn responded, her hands wringing together. "I mean, he offered to help fight against the First Evil and he _did_ save me from those Bringers."

"Well yes, save the baby sister of the slayer and thus learn more information about her." Anya shrugged. "It's a good method of attack."

"Too bad he didn't head out with Faith and the mini-slayers to find what Caleb's hiding this morning," Xander muttered. "Super strength is always helpful."

"B-but it wasn't _like_ that," Dawn argued in a low voice. James didn't…she wasn't a _conquest_…was she?

The front door was slammed open, creating a welcome interruption. However, Dawn's jaw dropped when she saw the new arrival – Buffy, carrying a battered Faith and a shiny axe thing, leading a group of wounded potential slayers.

* * *

A/N:  
Next up…James' perspective…

FYI: I am still following canon events, more or less at this point – hence Faith and the girls breaking into the vineyard and Buffy finding the Scythe.


End file.
